


Fields of Flowers

by The_Winter_Straw



Series: Where Gods Do Fear to Tread [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Fluff, POV Second Person, Pregnancy, Reader-Insert, references to fathering a horse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 18:12:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19067956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Winter_Straw/pseuds/The_Winter_Straw
Summary: Falling for an ego maniac from another realm wasn't the hard part. Having that ego maniac from another realm's baby was.First in a part of eight responses to the "9 Months" challenge by crackleviolet on Lunaescence Archives.





	1. Sneaking Suspicion

**Author's Note:**

> Incredibly silly pregnancy fic...go! Back in 2013 (shortly after "Thor: The Dark World" was released), I had an idea for a Loki story that needed some more time to stew. I went through all of the challenges on Lunaescence so I could write something for him while I was thinking, and landed on something involving pregnancy. I wrote the first chapter and quickly decided that thirty chapters of Loki just sort of being around someone pregnant wouldn't be interesting, so I swapped to a different pregnancy challenge fic and the rest is history. That's why this is the only one of all eight stories that doesn't start with the "how it happened" prompt. And while I finished this particular section in 2014, I never did write that Loki story because all I could come up with was a subplot. 
> 
> This is the ONLY happy pregnancy in the original collection of four. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. But yeah, this is just solid fluff/comedy and not meant to be taken seriously at all.

If you could have picked anyone to be the person you finally came out to, Natasha Romanoff would probably not have been one of your top five choices. True, she had been the only one to support your living situation–“If she wants to screw up her life, that’s none of our business”–but that didn’t mean she necessarily _approved_. At any rate, you hadn’t planned to tell her. You hadn’t planned to tell anyone. It just sort of...slipped out, right in the middle of your weekly coffee date. 

For a long while, she let you stew. Such was Natasha’s way. She made quite a show of pouring cream and sugar into her drink. Your heart throbbed in your ears in the silence. Suddenly you found your lap quite interesting. Maybe she wouldn’t remark upon your confession. Maybe she would act as if you never made it. 

She took a long sip of coffee, then: 

“You missed a period,” she repeated. Her eyes bored into yours, so hard that at last you could no longer resist nodding. “So…you’re sleeping with him.” 

“Is that bad?” You winced around the words. Natasha fixed her gaze on the tower elevator behind you and added another sprinkle of sugar to her coffee. 

“It’s not surprising.” 

Your shoulders fell as you looked into Natasha’s face. Though she did not appear to be searching for anyone or anything particular, she did not take her eyes off of whatever it was behind you that she found so fascinating. Five minutes passed; you wondered if you were in trouble. Your breakfast remained untouched in front of you. The thought of eating it only made your intestines twist more. 

After a long bout of uncomfortable silence, Natasha began to move again. She picked at the croissant you’d brought her from Starbucks. She drank her coffee. She crossed and uncrossed her legs. She did just about everything but actually address the issue at hand. By then, you were wild enough with fear to wish that she would. For god’s sake, you didn’t know anything about _babies_! Who else were you supposed to ask? 

On the other hand, her cold silence was a million times better than the teasing you would have endured had Clint been there. Thank goodness that that morning it was just Natasha: calm, rationale, mostly-a-friend Natasha. Or so you thought until she placed her cup back down on table, her eyes still fixed to the ceiling. 

“You _realize_ that I’m going to have to tell Director Fury about this.” 

You stiffened at the mention of Natasha’s mysterious boss. She, Clint, and the rest of their team had all mentioned him at some point, some with more warmth than others. He’d never bothered to visit at the same time you did, and after some of the stories Tony and Bruce told, you’d much rather have kept it that way. It took quite a bit of concentration to say, levelly: 

“No!” Okay, that didn't come out so level. You took a deep breath and tried again: “Let’s just…hold off on that. I mean, I could just be late.” 

She lifted a single, perfectly manicured brow as she returned her attention to you. “How late?” 

“Just a week. Maybe nine days." 

Her other eyebrow joined the first; her expertly painted nails drummed against the side of her cup. You bit your lip, silently pleading with her to understand. Your supplication did seem to get through to her, but not in the way you hoped. Natasha let out a very dignified snort. 

“[Name], I can’t just let this go. If you and Loki are procreating–” 

“It’s not like I did it on purpose!” you protested. As usual, Natasha looked put out by your interruption. That day you did not apologize. Pregnancy scares weren’t something that Clint and Natasha had to worry about. At the moment, you were privately jealous of her situation. This was not very charitable-If she and Clint wanted children later, they would have no choice but to adopt, and it was not as though Natasha had got to _choose_ her fate-but you couldn’t help it. 

She sighed, probably wishing that Clint had not chosen that Monday of all Mondays to leave her alone with you. “Did you use protection?” 

You shifted uncomfortably in your chair. “Most of the time?” 

Natasha looked as though she were trying very hard not to push her palm into her face. You did not feel this was very kind of her. How were you supposed to know that Asgardian DNA was compatible with human? Then again, donkeys and zebras did just fine, other than the barren offspring. Was your child going to be incapable of giving you grandchildren? 

“I think it’s a little early to be worrying about that,” Natasha remarked wryly. You colored up. That was supposed to stay on the inside. But then, so was the fact that you had missed a period to begin with. “Besides, I thought you said you _weren’t_ pregnant.” 

“What if…I am?” 

“I don’t know. But I would have to tell Director Fury. This was not part of the original agreement.” 

What _was_ part of the original agreement? No one seemed particularly interested in sharing that information with you. Perhaps Tony could have got it to you, but as he rarely indicated he had any interest in your relationship with Loki outside of the odd “How is he in bed?” question, you doubted he would be inclined to do you a solid. You could only guess what terms you had accepted when the team discovered exactly who it was Thor's brother had been communicating with in secret. Probably these weekly coffee dates with Natasha and Clint at the very least. As much as the two of them purported that they (and by extension the rest of the Avengers) liked having you around, you’d never even _met_ them prior to Natasha breaking into your apartment to greet you there after work the day after Thor took Loki back to Asgard for the first time. 

Maybe you looked just as sick with nerves as you felt, because Natasha frowned and sat a little forward. Sometimes she did things like that that made you think the two of you might be friends after all. She was a spy, however, and so you couldn't exactly trust that what she wanted you to think was what you should have been thinking. 

“Are you alright?” she asked. “I just meant that we’ll have to make sure SHIELD is aware. I didn’t mean that they’ll make you _do_ something to the baby.” 

“Do?” Your voice cracked. An image of yourself jammed with needles in a mental ward flooded your mind. “What do you mean _do_?” 

“I mean abort the baby,” Natasha said flatly. “Or keep it. Unless it looks like the baby will be a major threat to _you_ or the entire _planet_ , I’m sure you’ll get to do whatever it is you want with it.” 

You gaped at Natasha for nearly an entire minute. When you had woke up that morning, this was _not_ how you planned for the day to go. Natasha started when you let out a massive groan and clapped your ears between your hands. “I can’t think about this right now! I might not even be pregnant!” 

“I wasn’t asking you to decide right away. Look, if it will make you feel better, I’ll promise not tell Director Fury until you know for certain.” 

Tears came to your eyes. “You will?” 

Natasha nodded. “But…” 

“But? There’s a but?” 

“You have to find out soon. In the next week. Pick up a test on your way home from here.” 

This seemed fair, though it did ruin your typical “avoid unpleasant things until they go away on their own” plan. Still your tears of gratitude threaten to turn into something more serious. 

“But what will I tell him?” It would be simple enough to lie about the pregnancy test, if Loki happened to stumble upon it. He would have plenty of time to find your purchase, since you probably would be too scared to do the deed for another few days. At the same time, he never did any of his own cleaning, so you could probably just stash the box in a cabinet and be safe. But if the test came back _positive_ …Well, a baby was much more difficult to hide, and would only become more so as it grew. 

Natasha’s nose wrinkled. “You mean you haven’t _told_ him?” 

Frantically, you shook your head. You were afraid that if you tried to speak, you’d actually start crying. Natasha didn’t seem like the kind of person to appreciate tears, especially when what was upsetting the crying person was their fault to begin with. 

“Are you _trying_ to make this as hard as possible for yourself?” 

“No!” you wailed. Sure enough, Natasha’s eyes widened enough to make you suspect she was disturbed. Any minute now, she would probably call Bruce and ask _him_ to handle your emotions. To your surprise, she instead gave comforting you the old college try–comforting in her own way, at any rate. She did not get up, attempt to hug you, or even pat you on the back. 

“Okay. [Name]. Take a deep breath.” You did, sniffling all the while. When you remained quiet long enough, she continued: “You’ve got time for damage control. We’re not accomplishing anything here, so I want you to calm down, go to the store, buy a test, and _tell Loki._ ” 

It surprised you that Natasha was so insistent about that last bit. Given the fact that he had practically abducted her boyfriend less than a year ago and then threatened to force Clint to _kill_ her, you thought it odd for her to be the slightest bit concerned over Loki’s life. But, of course, you couldn’t say that, so you just said: 

“But what if he leaves?” He had plenty of reason to. You were just some woman he met while trying to take over the world that he happened to like. Asgard was still available, and if Loki agreed to spend time in prison there, then at least he wouldn’t have to spend so much time with Thor. A baby just might be the last thing he needed to convince him to go home. Your fingers tightened around your knees at the thought. 

“You can cross that bridge when you get there,” Natasha answered. You looked sharply up at her, only to see Natasha shrug. 

“You’re kind of lousy at pep talks.” 

She shrugged again. “You plan ahead for every eventuality. It’s either that, or you get killed.” 

“Loki isn’t going to _murder_ me for this!” 

“I never said he would.” She stood before you could start crying again, and grabbed the black handbag hanging from the back of her chair. “Do we have a deal? Because I’ve got a meeting with the guys in,” she checked her watch, “ten minutes.” 

You sniffled away your lingering fear, wiped your sweaty palms on your thighs, and got shakily to your feet yourself. “You promise you won’t say anything to them? Not even Clint?” 

“So long as you do what I told you to do. That includes talking to Loki about this.” After a moment of hesitation, you nodded. You didn’t feel capable of much more after that, so you picked up your own things, including your uneaten breakfast, and walked briskly toward the the Avengers Tower's door. “I’ll call to check up on you,” Natasha called after. “And if Loki answers the phone, I _will_ ask him.” 

As if Loki had managed to figure out how to work the phone. The only reason he could text you was because Tony had taught him at Thor’s request. Loki didn’t even touch the phone at your apartment at all. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t put it past Natasha to come visit in person, just to make sure, especially if no one answered. Sometimes you thought Natasha and Clint’s presence in your life more than made up for all the visiting Loki had to do with his brother.

* * *


	2. Finding Out

The fear Natasha put into you certainly did the trick: you went straight from coffee to the nearest drugstore. Just picking up the pregnancy test box and taking it through the checkout line made you want to cry, but you got through by reminding yourself that she could quite easily kick your face in if you refused to do what she said. That thought alone was enough, or so you believed. As the day went on, the plastic bag containing your test seemed to grow heavier and heavier, until you got home and it took all your strength just to stuff it in the back of your closet. 

Loki didn’t notice, and so you did not explain. You ignored Natasha’s texts and calls all week, telling yourself that this was all just some mistake. Work was stressful, or you weren’t eating enough, or you were terribly ill. Any day now, your period was going to return with a vengeance to stain all the unprotected panties you wore in the hopes of tricking the blood and cramps into appearing. Any day now, before Natasha finally made good on her threat to call your home phone or put in a personal appearance. But days came and went, and before you knew it, you had less than twelve hours before you were scheduled to see her again. 

“GOAL!” 

“For the last time, Thor, there are no _goals_ in football.” 

You also had no way of taking the test that night, even if you wanted to. The apartment living room was packed for the usual Sunday night game. Thor, large as ever, took up the most space just by sitting in the armchair. Clint sat at the bar in the kitchen, eating what snacks he had salvaged from Thor’s first collection of food that night. Loki was on the couch with you, but several feet away, as though touching you in front of his brother would make him look weak. Bruce and Tony, as per the norm, had come up with some excuse as to why they couldn't come. 

Natasha never came, and she never bothered with excuses. That night she was still definitely present. You were not much of a sports girl yourself, but focusing was even more difficult than usual that evening. Every other second, your phone lit up with a new text message. Putting it on silent only made you more fearful that someone would ask what you were up to. 

_Did you tell him?_ she asked for the eighteenth time. While Thor and Loki continued to bicker–good-naturedly, on Thor’s part–about the football scoring system, you risked answering her: 

_For the last time, no!_

Did you even check like I told you to? 

I’ve been busy! 

Yes, you seemed really busy when you were modeling for Steve’s picture three days ago. 

Just because my life isn’t as exciting as yours doesn’t mean that I’m not busy! 

No, but it does make it look like you’re a coward. 

You scoffed at that, stuffed your phone into a back pocket, and returned to feigning interest in what was on the television screen. Loki was watching as well, eyes narrowed as the players resumed stampeding across the field. Admittedly, when Clint had first suggested football games as a sort of man’s night out–code word for “babysitting Loki”–you hadn’t thought it was going to work. But Loki actually seemed interested after the first few games, especially if his recent fights with Thor over penalties were any indication. 

Speaking of Clint, Natasha was being a pest again: _Do you want me to text Clint and have HIM ask Loki?_

Your heart nearly stopped in its tracks. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you thought you could feel Clint’s eyes boring into the back of your head. Thankfully, that very moment, whichever team Thor was rooting for scored another touchdown, causing your apartment to erupt in cheers and complaints. 

_You promised not to tell!_ you typed back hastily. 

_I promised not to tell if you’d start taking care of things. You haven’t._

Strangely, the room started spinning shortly after you read Natasha’s latest text. Your breath burned in your chest. Black spots crawled across your eyes. The hand around your phone felt oddly cold and distant and then– 

“[Name]. Are you alright?” 

Your head snapped up. Loki had not moved from his spot in the opposite corner of the couch, but his attention had turned to you. The color drained tangibly from your face. Without speaking, you looked over at Clint, who was watching the entire affair with a frown. Had Natasha already texted him? The question got stuck in your throat. 

“[Name],” Loki repeated, but you did not allow him to finish his sentence. You leaped to your feet before he could. 

“I don’t feel very well,” you said, your voice very high-pitched. This was not even a lie. You’d be very impressed if you didn’t vomit all over the couch, which was, of course, just what you wanted to do in front of your demigod boyfriend. As all three men stared at you, you started to back away toward the hall. 

“If you are not feeling well, perhaps we should leave,” Thor said, looking to Clint for confirmation. You couldn’t bear to see or hear Clint’s reaction, so you spoke over it: 

“No! No, you guys stay. I’m just going to go lay down for a few minutes okay?” 

Loki gaped at you. Your ditching him on Game Night, leaving him alone with Clint and Thor, was a betrayal the likes of which you had not yet managed–unless he counted the pregnancy, which he probably would. But what could you do? You couldn’t stay there and throw up in front of two superheroes! Besides, your phone was flashing again, which meant Natasha was still attempting communication. It was now or never when it came to your test if you wanted to keep her from spilling the beans. At least Thor and Clint’s presence would distract Loki from what you were really up to. 

“ _No_ ,” he said, when you threw him a look of great remorse. “They should leave. If you’re sick, there’s no point in them staying to aggravate your illness.” 

Thor opened his mouth, presumably to agree. “I’m fine!” you nearly shouted. “I just need to lie down for a minute. Come tell me what the final score is!” 

You sprinted down the hallway before anyone could voice further protest. Well, Loki would _probably_ protest further, but you felt as though you’d insisted enough that Thor would refuse to leave. Sometimes his weirdly ingrained chivalry was helpful. Most of the time it wasn’t, but at least in this case it could buy you some time. 

The test box was still in your closet, so you had to retrieve that before things could get any worse. Your bare toes stuck to the hall carpet and your equally sweaty palms nearly dropped the box. When you got back into the hallway, though, there was at least one spot of relief: Clint and Thor had stayed, and no one sounded as though they were talking about your suspicious behavior. 

“Why do they not just destroy the ball and prevent it being stolen?” 

“Thor, you understand _nothing_ about football.” 

Maybe you would have laughed, had it been any other night. As it was, all you could manage was swallowing down another volley of nausea as you quietly pulled the bathroom door shut behind you. Then you were alone–or alone as anyone could be with three men a few feet away screaming at a couple of sports teams that couldn't hear them. 

By then, each of your limbs was shaking. You collapsed onto the lip of the bathtub and stared at the box. The notification light on your phone continued to blink-blink-blink, and you could _not_ take it anymore. With a groan of frustration, you tossed the device into the towel cabinet under the sink so that you could pay better attention to opening your box. 

Inside were two white sticks with screens and a semi-thick pamphlet of instructions. Your mouth went entirely dry when you caught sight of the pamphlet. What kind of test _was_ this? Should you have _studied_? 

Another bout of tears threatened to overwhelm you; you had to put everything down to push it away. When you had, you didn’t feel much more clear-minded, unfortunately, but you knew what had to be done. If you showed up for coffee tomorrow without doing this, Natasha would probably snap your neck. It wasn’t like Clint would report your murder to the authorities or anything. 

Your nerves were barely present, but you forced yourself to read the instructions before they left you again. They weren’t exactly what you expected. 

“I have to _pee_ on it?” 

The stick in your other hand had no comfort to offer. It was, after all, _made_ to be peed on, and you were only prolonging fulfilling its life’s purpose. Fantastic. Not only was it probable that someone would kill you no matter _what_ the test said, you also had to _pee_ on the damn thing. They couldn’t have thought of a less disgusting way to tell if women were pregnant? 

But you got up and opened the stupid toilet to stare into its watery depths. For a split second, you wished you weren’t going to do the deed alone. There was no one to asks to be there with you, though. You couldn’t ask Loki, and the thought of peeing in front of Natasha was somehow _worse_. With a shaky breath, you turned, pulled down your pants and undergarments, and crouched, holding the test awkwardly underneath you. 

For a long while, no urine came. Your heart throbbed in your chest and neck and throat. Any of the people in your apartment might need to use the restroom soon, in which case you were both flat out of luck. At this rate, you wouldn’t pee again until next November. 

“Come _on_ ,” you hissed at your bladder. “Come _on_!” 

But your bladder didn’t listen. You shifted and squeezed; a bead of sweat ran down your brow. Finally, after what felt like twenty minutes, liquid began to trickle out of you. You released a long held breath as you counted off the seconds: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Done. 

You took the stick out of the flow, wiped, adjusted yourself, then paused. Three agonizing minutes were required of you before the test would tell you whether or not your life was over. The stick was still covered in pee, and you weren’t sure if you could rinse it in sink without ruining the test. One had been stressful enough; you certainly didn’t want to take the second one. But three minutes of standing over a toilet! Could things get any worse? 

They most definitely could. Thor could walk in, or Clint, or Loki, or even Natasha. The thought was not comforting, but neither was your pleading “just say negative” to an inanimate object. “I really can’t afford this right now. Just be a good test and tell me no, okay?” 

Three minutes ticked off more slowly than waiting for yourself to pee in the first place. Your head whipped this way and that as you listened intently for the sound of footsteps outside. It did not come, so you screwed up your eyes as the time drew close. It was going to say no. Of course it was going to say no. You weren’t ready to be a mother, and your body would know that. Everything was going to be– 

_+._ That was what the stick said. You rubbed your eyes with the hand not preoccupied by holding a pee-covered life-ruiner, but the plus sign stayed very clearly there, as though burned into your retinas. A quavering hand lifted to cover your mouth, but even that did not stifle your sob. You threw the stick into the trash, curled into yourself, and cried. 

How long you lay on the bathroom floor, you didn’t know. Eventually your tears subsided and the raging horror in your chest faded into numbness. You should have been planning what to say and how to say it, when to tell your parents, when to tell _his_ parents, the rulers of some space kingdom you’d never even visited who would probably want to chop your head off for having premarital sex with their son. But you just couldn’t think. All you could do was stare until someone rapped on the door. 

“[Name]? Are you in there?” 

“Y-Yes!” You quickly sat up and rubbed away the last signs of your sobbing from your face, and not a moment too soon. Loki opened the door–you really needed to fix that lock, if you lived long enough to figure out how–and took a half-step inside. 

“…What are you doing on the floor?” 

“Nothing.” 

He opened his mouth, clearly confused, then must have thought better of saying whatever it was that he had been planning to say. “Look, Thor and Clint are finally leaving. Do you want to come see them off?” 

You took a big, deep breath. However you were supposed to tell him, you couldn’t that night. Natasha would just have to get Clint to shoot you in the morning, and maybe that was for the best after all. Wanting one more night with Loki where he didn’t hate you meant you couldn’t exactly allow Clint to see the truth on your face so soon. 

“No,” you rasped as you shook your head. Loki lifted his eyes to the ceiling. 

“Neither do I.” 

But he left without further interrogation, and, much as you wanted to stay on that floor for the next few days, Loki’s absence gave you time: time enough to gather the rest of your pregnancy test things and hide them. Maybe you could still see the shattered remains of your life in the trashcan underneath the kitchen sink, but Loki wouldn’t. Taking that garbage out was _your_ job.

* * *


	3. How You Told Him

From the very outset, you had not really expected your relationship with Natasha to congeal into anything like warmth. She managed to circumvent these expectations every so often: there were the weekly coffee dates where Natasha feigned interest in your mundane job and mundane life, the time you were sick in bed while Loki and Thor were visiting home and she took care of you, and the fact that she _never_ insisted on you and Loki going on double dates with her and Clint. Maybe, you thought, you _did_ like her. She _was_ the most normal member of the team, barring Clint. Maybe the two of you could be friends. 

What Natasha did after you admitted that _yes_ you were pregnant and _no_ you still hadn’t told him the morning after you took your test absolutely cemented the fact that the two of you had not been friends, were not friends, and would never _be_ friends. You’d barely finished your story when her eyes snapped up to look at Clint’s. He did not make any signal that _you_ saw, but before you could so much as blink, she stood, snatched your wrist, and wrenched you after her toward the lobby elevator without a word. 

“H-Hey,” you stammered as you tripped and Natasha kept going without pause. “What are you–You wouldn’t–You can’t–” 

A desperate look back at Clint showed you that he had not the slightest inclination of helping you. He casually gathered up the belongings Natasha left behind and then followed with a smirk. As the elevator slid toward some upper level, she glanced at him. 

“What’s so funny?” she asked. 

“You know,” he said, still smiling. Natasha rolled her eyes. Her fingers remained clamped around your upper arm. 

“What does she know?” you asked, your voice high-pitched yet again. Clint feigned deafness and did not even look in your direction. Your only course of action, then, was to turn to Natasha. “Where are we going? Why is he so amused?” 

“He’s an idiot,” Natasha said flatly. “And we’re going to explain things to Loki.” 

“What?” You stiffened. “ _Here_?” 

“You had your chance to tell him elsewhere.” 

“But here?” you said again. “In front of everyone?” 

At last, her eyes fixed on your face. The look she shot you killed any protest that might have been forming on your lips. “You have another way I can be sure you’re telling him instead of procrastinating?” This time, she offered you no sympathy. When the elevator doors opened, Natasha let go of you and stepped outside, but it was clearly with the assumption that you would follow. Her assumption came to fruition. Though you tried to stay inside and wait for the lift to go back down, Clint placed a firm hand on your back and pushed you out. 

“No, Clint. Please. Don’t make me do this in front of Tony," you said as he steered you down the hall. 

“Tony won’t be here,” he said, coming to a stop near where Natasha was standing. Seeing her looking so stern only made you feel crummier, and that was saying something. You hadn’t stopped feeling crummy since getting the results of your test. A night of staying up and forcing yourself not to toss and turn and betray your wakefulness to Loki would do that on a normal occasion. Nothing about the additional factors was normal. 

“Is Steve gone, too?” you asked hoarsely. Your throat felt tight with all the tears you didn’t want to cry in front of two trained assassins. You were pretty sure the tears would come out anyway, though, if the answer turned out to be no. Steve was the only Avenger that might have liked you and he was going to be _so_ disappointed when he found out what you did. 

“Yes. He’s off doing something for Fury and won’t be back until next week.” Clint’s hand lifted to contract gently around your shoulder. His expression looked no more sympathetic, and his voice was low when he added, “Look, I know this is hard. It’s got to be done. Maybe we could think of something better, but,” he nodded his head in Natasha’s direction, “she’s the boss.” 

If she heard, Natasha acted like she had not. Still she straightened, brushed her hair behind her shoulder, and marched into the large room nearby. Clint followed her, apparently thinking that he’d shown you enough kindness to get you to follow. It was either that or your fear of Natasha that got you to actually do so. 

Inside, Thor and Loki were up to what they were always doing at eight o’ clock in the morning on weekdays–or at least what they did whenever you were visiting–which was sparring. You always kind of figured that they played video games and watched internet videos when they didn't expect your arrival, but there was no way they could have planned to put on a show that day since you most definitely had work later. Loki and Thor remained quite plainly locked in combat with their faces twisted up into the usual expressions: excitement or anger on Thor’s, boredom or annoyance on Loki’s. 

“Hey,” Natasha said loudly after several minutes had passed with the two brothers continuing to smack, punch, and smash each other into the ground. Thor stopped immediately; Loki kept up his swatting until Thor at last placed a massive hand on his head and shoved him an arm’s length away. Then Loki finally looked up. 

“What do _you_ want?” Loki began, but his tone changed upon his spotting you standing slightly behind Natasha. “ _[Name]_?” 

His sudden faint color could only be, you told yourself, because he had been losing so spectacularly to Thor only minutes before. No one had told him what you were about to tell him; Loki did not appear nervous because he had been counting on having several hours to prepare his breakup speech. You lifted an arm and wiggled a few fingers. 

“Hi.” 

“What are you _doing_ here?” 

Because if you got fired for not going to work, who would pay the rent? It was not as though Loki had a job or would allow Thor to bail you out at the end of the month. Or maybe you were just projecting your feelings of inadequacy in terms of sexual protection onto other things in your life now. 

“I…” you began in the expectant silence that followed. Every eye in the room felt as though it were trained on you. You squirmed uncomfortably. Thor, frowning, sat his hammer down. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. “We did not expect you to come by today.” 

“I…” you said again, but with even _less_ knowledge of how to continue. That was when Natasha came to the “rescue.” 

“[Name] has something important to tell Loki,” she said, and she cut her eyes pointedly in your direction. “And she is going to tell him _now_.” 

“Can we–Can we do this in private?” you asked. 

“No.” 

Slowly, you lifted your head to look at Loki. He stared right back; now that his embarrassment had left him, his expression remained inscrutable. Your eyes darted left and right. There was no chance of escape, not with Natasha next to you and Clint blocking the exit. There was nothing left but for you to play right into Natasha’s hands. With a deep breath, you walked over to Loki. His eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the corners as you took his hands. 

“[Name],” he whispered, “whatever this is, can it not _wait_? I seriously doubt I want to hear this in front of _Thor_ and we were right in the middle of a heated battle.” 

You took another deep breath, and then: “I’m pregnant.” 

Loki’s hands froze inside yours. His eyes locked on yours and did not look away. It was not _anger_ , at least, but you still flinched in anticipation. After what seemed like ages, Loki opened his mouth. All that came out of it was his tongue. Loki only had time to wet his lips before Thor interrupted: 

“What did you say?” 

You twisted slightly without releasing Loki’s hands. Thor came striding toward the two of you, his eyes narrowed at his brother’s still petrified face. Now that your secret was out, you felt somehow better. “I said that I’m pregnant.” 

Thor’s head snapped toward Loki. It was only then that you noticed that he had his hammer again. He swung it in your direction as he demanded, “Loki, did you sleep with this woman?” 

That appeared to thaw him. Loki looked straight at Thor and then rolled his eyes in a fashion that could be translated as nothing other than a very straightforward _duh._. This only caused Thor’s demeanor to worsen. 

“Why would you do such a thing?” 

With a ragged sigh, Loki disentangled his fingers from yours to turn to his brother more fully. ““How is that different from _you_ ,” he wanted to know, “and your _Jane_? Do you expect me to believe that you haven’t been fornicating with _her_?” 

“That is different,” Thor answered stoutly. 

“Different _how_?” 

“ _I_ am not on probation for very nearly destroying an entire people.” 

“Really?” A very bitter chuckle rose from Loki’s throat. Suddenly you were all but forgotten. “Because if I recall _correctly_ , you _should_ be after your little game on Jotunhiem–” 

“Jotunhiem!” Thor interrupted, turning to you to place his hands on both your shoulders. “[Name], are you quite certain that the baby is Loki’s?” 

“What?” You stiffened. “Of course it’s _his_. Who else would it belong to?” 

Thor regarded you without answer. So not only did all of the Avengers think you were crazy and stupid, but they also thought you slept around. Fantastic! Just the kind of environment you wanted to bring an unexpected child into. 

A moment later and he turned his head toward Loki. “Does she know?” he asked. 

“Do I know _what_?” 

Loki said nothing, forcing Thor to return his attention to you. “Loki is not of Asgard.” 

“ _What_?” 

“He is not Asgardian. That is to say, he is–” 

“Adopted,” Loki sneered. “Yes, [Name] is quite well aware of _that_.” 

“But does she know what you are?” Thor asked him heatedly. “Did you think this through before you slept with her? Did you think to destroy her with your seed?” 

“Thor,” Loki said through gritted teeth. “Stay out of this.” 

“No. I will not have her put in danger. [Name], whatever Loki might have told you to the contrary, he is not the same as I. He is not Asgardian, nor is he of your realm. Loki is from a different place entirely. He is an ice giant.” 

“Oh.” 

Another awkward pause followed. Then Clint came forward. “Oh?” he repeated. “That’s all you have to say? ‘Oh’?” 

You shrugged in answer, though this did nothing to remove Thor’s hands from your person. “I already knew that.” 

“You did?” said Thor. 

“Yeah. He told me, like, ages ago.” 

“You mean,” said Clint, “that a giant blue frozen alien can impregnate a normal human woman?” 

Thor slid his hands off your shoulders one at a time; he used one of his now-free hands to rub his chin. “Well, I suppose Loki _is_ on the small side.” 

“I’m right _here_ ,” Loki put in testily, but Thor ignored him to clap you hard on the back. You went pitching forward to sprawl on the training room ground and thought it best just to lay there. Loki ruined these plans by coming over to help you up even as Thor added his congratulations: 

“Well, what is done is done! Congratulations to you both.” 

“Wait.” Natasha stepped in, holding up both hands. She scrutinized every person present, first you and Loki, still half on the floor, then Clint, then Thor. “You’re okay with this?” she asked the last. It was then Thor’s turn to shrug. 

“Of course. It is not the first time Loki has found himself in this predicament,” he answered. “Although he normally does the childbearing himself.” 

There was a beat. 

“What?” you asked, just as Natasha and Clint decided to quit the room. 

“Good enough for me,” said Natasha. 

“I really _don’t_ want to know,” said Clint. 

Thor grinned after them until they disappeared entirely. In the meantime, Loki helped you to your feet. This seemed indication enough that he didn’t plan to run out on you and you were just managing to work up a shy smile when Thor return to push the two of you closer together. 

“Welcome to the family, [Name],” he said. “I am sure things will go quite well. At the very least, Loki’s child will not be so giant as to harm you exiting your body.” 

“ _Thor_ ,” Loki snapped. The smile dropped of Thor’s face, but returned not a millisecond later. He released you both and began to back out of the room. 

“Of course. I will leave you and [Name] to discuss things. I should probably tell Father and Mother at any rate. She will be so pleased to find she will be having a proper grandchild.” 

Loki looked as though he very much did not want Thor to do this, but as it was the only way to get rid of him, he said nothing. Shortly after Thor left, Loki relaxed enough to rub his temple. 

“Er…Loki,” you said once enough time had passed where he hadn’t said anything. It was getting late in the morning, after all, and you had not called in sick to work. He looked at you; you gestured at your still-flat stomach. “Is this…is this okay?” 

He watched you for a good, long while, then released a long-held sigh before taking your hands of his own volition. “It’s fine,” he answered. “I mean, Thor _is_ right about me having children before. And it will be nice to have a child that Odin can’t ride into battle.” 

“About those other kids–” 

“Later,” Loki interjected. “Let’s deal with one child at time, please, [Name].” 

He wasn’t leaving. He wasn’t angry. You practically wanted to melt with relief. Loki must have noticed this and been as aware of your work situation as you were. When he offered to walk with you to work, it was probably more his jumping at the chance to get away from Thor early, but a girl could pretend, couldn’t she? You accepted, and the baby didn’t really come up in conversation all the way there.

* * *


	4. Starting to Show

Despite assurances to the contrary, things didn’t change all that much after your pregnancy reveal. You owned enough large, baggy sweaters to obscure your stomach everywhere but work, had no real friends to tell the news to, and lived at a great enough distance from your family to avoid the subject entirely. Some of the symptoms were trickier to hide, but you managed. It would have been easy to go on pretending that everything was normal except for _one_ tiny issue: Clint and Natasha started inviting you over with alarming alacrity. 

Gone were the days where you only had to check in once a week. Soon you found yourself at the Tower as soon as you got off work and well into the evening. “What, you got something better to do?” Clint asked when you asked him why. He didn’t bother to explain, allowing Natasha to keep up the pretense of friendship without any effort on _his_ part. You believed her even less now than you had to begin with, and had a good idea that your babysitters were under orders to "make sure the mortal girl doesn’t end up in over her head." 

The dinner part wasn’t really too bad. Heaven knew it was a better situation than the one at your apartment. _You_ certainly couldn’t cook, and Loki had never had any motivation to try. It made a nice change, after five months of macaroni and cheese cups and ramen, eating _real_ food. No matter what your personal feelings toward Natasha might have been, you always appreciated her cooking. 

It was the part before that you didn’t like. Getting everyone rounded up (well–Clint, Natasha, Thor, and Loki, anyway; Steve’s mission went long and Bruce and Tony shared odd dining hours) took a lot of time. Being “uninitiated” (according to Tony) and “unauthorized” (according to Natasha) meant you couldn’t spend that time wandering around. Normally, Clint met you in the lobby, led you up to the communal kitchen, then went back to whatever it was Avengers did while on the clock. 

The upside? You finally got started on that reading list of yours. The downside? There was no one to talk to. You spent your free time alone, allowing your eyes to run across the page while you absently rubbed at your stomach. The baby bump was still small, but growing steadily. Soon, your sweaters weren’t going to do a lick of good and you were going to have to find a way to tell your parents. 

Your brow crinkled as you tried to steer your thoughts away from such unpleasantries and back toward the story before you. When that did not work, fate came to your rescue. The door behind you slid open; you turned to greet the arrival and saw: 

“Steve!” you cried as you leaped from your chair and ran over to give him a hug. “You’re back!” 

“I’m back,” he agreed with a grin once he had released you. “And you’re…pregnant!” 

You froze an arm-length away from him. Too scared to turn your back on Steve, you strained your eyes toward the table. Sure enough, your sweater lay in a mound next to your book. You’d forgotten that you had taken it off twenty minutes ago. When you’d worked up enough nerve to look into Steve’s face again, he was smiling bemusedly. 

“When did that happen?” 

“Oh, you know. Around when you left. ” You could have hit yourself for letting your voice get that high. In the hopes that it would distract Steve from this, you clapped and spun quickly on the spot to get back to your book. “It was nice seeing you, but you probably have a lot of unpacking to do. Bye!” 

You plunked yourself down into your chair and focused more heavily than ever on your story. A second later, the seat across from yours squealed as Steve pulled it away from the table and sat down himself. He offered you a shy smile that you answered by lifting your book in front of your face so that you wouldn’t have to see his derision. 

“Actually, I’ve already unpacked. I’m here for dinner, just like you.” You hunched your shoulders around your ears. “Congratulations, by the way.” 

_That_ shocked you enough to stop ignoring him. Your book landed with a thud on the table. “What do you mean?” 

“Uh…I mean, congratulations on the baby?” 

“You don’t hate me?” 

Steve’s brow furrowed; clearly he was somewhat concerned for your mental health. His eyes slid to the side, then back to your face. “Why would I hate you for getting pregnant?” 

“Because I blatantly disregarded the societal norms of your time period!” 

He let out a gigantic snort, then started to chuckle in earnest. It took a few seconds for Steve to compose himself; he held a hand out the entire time he did to prevent you from interrupting. “[Name], I am perfectly capable of understanding that things have changed. Just because someone does something that I wouldn’t doesn’t mean I hate them.” 

“It doesn’t?” Suddenly, you were blinking away tears. For _weeks_ , you’d been worried about losing your only real ally in the Avengers, and it turned out that you’d worried for nothing. 

“Of course not,” Steve said. “So, it’s Loki’s, I’m assuming?” 

“Y-Yeah.” Somehow this question was less offensive coming from Steve in private than from Thor in front of three other people. 

“And he’s okay with that?” 

“Yeah.” More than okay, really. Although neither of you spoke much about what was going to happen once the baby _arrived_ , or even about the baby at all, Loki was very good about dealing with your morning sickness and mood swings and not talking about your added weight. It was sweet and very strange–but then, most women probably weren’t lucky enough to be pregnant around a man that had experienced pregnancy himself, even if it _was_ as a horse. 

“Have you two picked a name?” 

“Er–” 

“Wait, wait,” said a familiar voice as the door opened again. You didn’t even have to turn around to know that it was Tony. You felt the color rising in your cheeks. Of all the people you _didn’t_ want finding out, Tony was pretty much at the top of the list, right underneath Natasha. Why were you so bad at keeping things a secret? “Do my ears deceive me, or did I just now hear that the Prince of Darkness is having a spawn?” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Mr. Stark.” 

“Captain Rogers,” Tony said as he passed the table. He stopped when he saw you sitting there, and smirked. “Ah, Princess of Darkness. Makes sense now.” 

“Mr. Stark,” Steve said more sharply. Tony waved him away as he opened the fridge. Steve’s eyes narrowed, but it looked as though Tony was quite content to ignore the two of you from that point on. The conversation turned back toward you–though not before you noticed Bruce surreptitiously leaning against a nearby wall. “So, have you picked a name?” 

“Well,” you drew the word out for as long as you could, “that would be kind of _difficult_.” 

He blinked. “Do you even know what you’re having?” 

“They’re having a mutant,” Tony cut in, his back still toward the rest of the group. “Keep up with program, Steve.” 

Steve did not even bother to turn around. He just continued watching you steadily, as though Tony didn’t exist. Finally, you felt as though you could avoid answering no longer. Your shoulders fell in a deep sigh. 

“I haven’t gone for my ultrasound yet. I don’t want to go alone, but it’s hard to take Loki places after he blew half the city up.” 

“And yet,” Tony put in as he wandered back to the table, “you’re still with him. Is anyone else seeing the problem here?” 

Steve held up a hand, again without bothering to look at Tony. “But you’ve gone to the doctor, haven’t you? To make sure everything is okay?” 

You nodded. You’d been a few times, just not for anything _invasive_. Time was cutting close, though. The thought made you feel almost as ill as the morning sickness. Steve, however, just looked relieved. 

“Good. I’d hate for anything to happen. I was going to offer to go along with you if you haven’t. You’ll want the father of the kid to go along for the ultrasound, though.” 

“Can we _please_ stop talking about the fact that Thor’s crazy kid brother is having a baby?” Tony asked. “At least not when I’m about to eat. You’re making me lose my appetite.” 

It was hard standing up to Tony, seeing as you were just some completely normal, completely average young woman with a full time job in an office, while _he_ was a billionaire playboy philanthropist super-genius superhero. Still, Natasha had told you that you had to get him off your back yourself last time you’d complained to her. Now was as good a time to start as any. 

“If you’re so annoyed, why don’t you just leave?” 

“Because I _can’t_ ,” he answered, looking amused at your attempt to get rid of him. “According to Steve, we’re all supposed to help out with dinner tonight, as a ‘team building exercise.’” 

“It’s what we were doing before I left,” Steve pointed out. 

“And what we all _stopped_ doing as soon as you left because none of us _want_ to do it. Listen, [Name].” He threw himself into the seat next to you. You looked back at Bruce, desperate for help, but the doctor clearly had no intentions of aiding you. “I can get you an ultrasound. We can hook it up here and I’m _sure_ I can find someone to operate it. That way we can _all_ be there for the big moment.” 

His grin widened at the end of his sentence. You did your best to glare back. What had you ever done to Tony? Why did he only ever talk to you to make you miserable? He obviously wanted some sort of response, but you could think of nothing that would not dig you a deeper hole. For a moment, no one spoke. Tony just smirked at you, you stared back, and Steve glared at him. 

Bruce interrupted by jumping in himself. He took the chair on your other side without comment, but both other men immediately focused their gaze on him. You stilled, worried. What was Bruce about to say? He stalled for a long moment to lick his lips and clasp his hands in front of him. At last, he smiled. 

“Don’t worry about Tony. We’re all just wondering what a girl like you sees in a guy like him.” 

It was then your turn to blink. Bruce’s smile remained on his face, but you couldn’t answer. How could you explain in a way that any of them would understand? They couldn’t get past the part where Loki had tried to take over the world. They didn’t see his thin bones or long eyelashes, or hear the way his voice curled around certain words. They couldn’t understand how at ease he made you feel, or how much you liked having him around even when the two of you were just sitting on the couch. 

Upon realizing you weren’t going to elaborate, Tony snorted and sat back in his chair. “Well, whatever. We’ll be able to observe and see for ourselves soon enough.” 

“What?” You sat straight up. “Why?” 

Steve shot Tony a look full of meaning–not that it was a meaning you were privy too. Tony only smirked at him that time, until Steve sighed and looked at you again. 

“[Name], what are you and Loki planning to do?” 

“About what?” 

“About living arrangements,” Steve answered. You felt your heart sink. Maybe not talking about things really wasn’t the best plan. That baby was going to come whether you planned for it or not. 

“Um…well…” All three men watched you closely; you squirmed uncomfortably under their gaze. “We haven’t really talked about it.” 

“Told you,” Tony said in an undertone to Steve. Steve took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. 

“If you’re going to take a maternity leave, you’re not going to be able to make rent. Loki can’t get a job. You need somewhere to go.” 

“We’ll think of something.” 

“Wrong answer!” Tony said. “You’re moving to the Tower. You’re welcome.” 

Steve definitely had a point. You hadn’t really thought about where the money was going to come from. Your parents certainly weren’t going to _disown_ you for getting knocked up, but you also couldn’t expect them to pay your rent for the several months before you could go back to work–providing that you did not decide that you wanted to stay at home while the kid was growing up. On the other hand… 

“I really don’t think Loki will agree to that.” 

“I really don’t think he has a choice in the matter,” Tony said. “Believe me, I wouldn’t be inviting him _or_ his hellspawn to live with me if Fury hadn’t told me I had to if I wanted to keep the building.” 

“But Loki _really_ won’t want to live with Thor.” 

“What, an entire _floor_ isn’t big enough for him? It’s not like I don’t have a spare, since Clint and Natasha insisted on sharing.” 

“It’s not so much the distance as the charity…” you said, hopefully so quietly that no one could hear. No such luck. 

“Well, _I_ don’t see what the big deal is,” Tony said. “This is a great place to live. Bruce isn’t used to charity and he loves it here!” 

“I don’t hate it,” Bruce qualified. 

You were saved further argument by the rest of the team bursting in, Loki at the front and being herded by his brother. Clint and Natasha followed, looking, as always, coolly disinterested in the proceedings. As soon as he spotted you, Loki made a beeline in your direction. Bruce casually got up to vacate his seat for him, and then wandered over to stand behind Tony. 

“[Name]!” Thor practically shouted when he saw you. “Mother is so very looking forward to meeting you. Unfortunately, no one is sure what effect the Bifrost would have on an unborn child, but she insists that you visit with me and Loki soon after the birth.” 

A glance at Loki told you that he had nothing to say on the matter. Going home frustrated him, but he _did_ like his mother quite a bit. Perhaps he just had no way to respond without giving away feelings he didn’t want known in present company. 

“Right,” you said slowly, while Thor continued to beam at you. “I…look forward to it.” 

Loki just kept his head resting on his arms, which were crossed on top of the table. You wondered if his morose behavior was because someone had already told him about the move, or if he was just sulking because of all the time he had to spend with the Avengers. Much as the thought of moving pained you, you really hoped it was the former. Making the announcement _your_ responsibility would just be cruel. 

“As fascinating as the inner workings of the Asgardian Royal family and [Name]’s uterus are,” Natasha broke in, “I’m hungry. Are we cooking or what?” 

You stood abruptly, but the kitchen was too full for the usual surprised reaction this would have normally elicited. Steve was the only one really watching you by then. Loki’s eyes peered up at you, but not in a way that anyone else would notice. For all you knew, he was just staring into space and imagining he was anywhere else. 

“It’s a little crowded in here,” you told Steve. “Both of us have checked in, so we’ll just be going now.” 

“I don’t think so,” Clint said, clapping a hand to your shoulder. Your heart sank. 

“But I thought this was a team building exercise!” 

Steve clapped your other shoulder as he rose from his chair. “You’re part of the team now.” 

There was no arguing with that. You sighed, glanced at Loki again, and then walked over to the stove. Thor would have to get Loki moving himself. Natasha handed you an apron and a mixing bowl without comment. As you tied the string around your neck, you could not help thinking that even if this pregnancy went perfectly, nothing else was going to go according to plan.

* * *


	5. Picking Names

In the end, it was Steve who accompanied you to your ultrasound after all. You just couldn’t stomach the thought of going alone. Faced with your other two options (Natasha, whose general emotionlessness would set you on edge, and Thor, who would be _far_ too loud about things), Steve was definitely the best choice, right after Loki. Loki was who you would have preferred, obviously, but there remained the problem of him being a wanted man. Part of the deal letting Loki stay on Earth was that he wasn’t allowed to use illusions on himself. It made tracking him difficult for Thor. 

Once the decision was made, _you_ had to tell Loki. This wasn’t as scary as, say, telling him you were pregnant to begin with or that he had to move into the same building as his brother. You figured he would just roll his eyes and have done it with. Somehow, what he actually said was a million times worse: 

“It’s no concern of _mine_ what you do with the child.” 

He didn’t mean it. You _knew_ he didn’t mean it. Normally, you would have been able to shrug it off as Loki making himself look tough in front of everyone else. With your hormones as imbalanced as they were? You burst immediately into furious tears, screamed something that Steve would not repeat to you, and hadn’t talked to Loki at all in the twenty-four hours since. Thank _god_ it had only taken you two days to move into the Tower, what with all the help you had. You had not appreciated it much at first (it made Loki more taciturn than usual), but being able to sleep in a different room that night was something of a relief. 

Not that it made going to the ultrasound any easier. Steve was his usual self, always looking on the bright side of things and trying to make you as comfortable as possible. Sometimes you got the feeling he thought you were dying of a terminal illness rather than growing a small person in your womb. Hopefully the ultrasound put an end to that–but probably not. The amount of care he took in getting you back to the Tower was almost maddening. Still, at least he promised not to tell any of the others the results. 

“We’re back!” he exclaimed as he nudged you forward into the communal floor’s waiting area. As much as everyone purported to not care about your pregnancy, there was quite a welcoming party waiting for you. Natasha and Clint sat on the couch, clearly disinterested in whatever was on the television Thor was watching while stretched across the floor in front of them. Bruce was reading a book at the table; Tony was sitting nearby flicking folded bits of paper at him. Each one looked up at your return. 

You smiled a sheepish smile while your eyes roved about the rest of the room. 

“ _So_?” said Tony. Steve’s hands contracted gently around your shoulders. You shot him a second smile to show you understood not to engage, and that Steve wasn’t going to give away anything, especially not to Tony. Next was Natasha’s turn: 

“Is everything okay?” 

_That_ was a safer question. Again you felt a pang of confusion as to whether or not Natasha cared about you. Steve stepped past you. He was the one that answered: 

“Everything is great. The baby is healthy.” 

There was a general clamor of excitement at that. Natasha _smiled_ a little bit. Clint grinned, Thor came over to give you a giant bear hug, and Bruce even got close enough to murmur, “Congratulations.” 

“But what _is_ it?” Tony demanded. “Half a skeleton? Mutant snake? Giant wolf?” The noise in the room died down so the team could watch you expectantly. You took a deep breath, rocking onto the balls of your feet, and then turned and opened the door behind you again. 

“I’ve got to go. I think I’m going to vomit.” 

Before anyone could suggest they go along to help or to remind you that you had better not be sick on the Tower’s nice carpet, you dashed out into the hallway and slammed the door shut. Let them think it was morning sickness in the afternoon. You were actually queasy over Loki’s not being there to greet you as well. He was probably–maybe–lurking on your floor several above. Knowing that anyone could follow you at any moment, you began to sprint up the nearby stairs. The elevator was too risky; it took too long to call. You got up one landing, and then nearly crashed into your problem. 

“What are you _doing_?” Loki asked testily, his hand clamped around your arm to steady you as you teetered backwards the way you’d come. Only once he tugged you to safety did he continue in an equally disgusted tone, “Do you _want_ the baby to die?” 

“Thought you said I could do whatever I wanted with it.” As much regret as you’d felt tossing and turning in that empty bed last night, all of your anger and sadness came rushing back now that Loki was right in front of you. You found yourself _almost_ wishing you’d stuck around to listen to Tony’s wisecracks. Loki, however, only rolled his eyes, and very gingerly began to lead you up the stairs. 

“Be that as it may, I’d like _you_ to remain in one piece.” 

Part of you realized he was being decent at the moment, but that part was drowned out by the immense sadness you suddenly felt surging up from your feet and over your head. Tears sprang to your eyes and coursed fast and hot down your cheeks. The air in your lungs felt as though it were burning you from the inside out. 

“So you don’t care about the baby at _all_?” 

“I never said–” He broke off when he got a good look at your face. “Allfather, are you _crying_?” 

“I can’t help it!” you blubbered between the sobs that had started wracking your entire body. “You’re–You’re–You’re being so mean!” 

“ _Mean_?” Loki repeated, looking absolutely bewildered. But by then you had reached your floor and you were so embarrassed by him seeing you in such a state that you burst inside without waiting for him. If you had really been thinking, you would have ran to the guest room you’d used last night, but thinking was difficult with all of the extreme emotions that you weren’t used to feeling. You ran into your bedroom and threw yourself into the bed. It, like the rest of your furniture and appliances from the apartment, had been deemed too ugly and old to be allowed in Tony’s tower. Very few objects on your floor belonged to you. At least Pepper had insisted on doing the decorating herself. Her tastes were a lot more modest than Tony’s. It sort of felt like home, if home smelt like new car and metal and gunpowder. Realizing that you were nowhere familiar only made you cry harder. 

When at last, sniffling, you sat up, it was to see Loki sitting quite close on the bed, looking haughtily put out. He did not much like crying, you suspected, which was probably why he had noticed you during that little stunt so long ago. When the other girls cried about being told to kneel, you just did as told. Obeying was better than being dead. 

“Are you done?” he asked, less angrily than you expected. Another couple of hiccups escaped before you could wipe your arm across your nose and answer. 

“Yes.” 

“Are you _sure_? Because I’d rather not be interrupted every five minutes if we’re going to have this talk.” 

“What talk?” 

“The talk about the _baby_.” It sounded a little as though he thought you were dense, and that brought the tears back again. You didn’t really _cry_ , per se, but you felt your face darken and crumple again. Loki rolled his eyes a second time, pulled you into his chest, and patted your back. “Fine, fine. It’s the hormones, not you. Cry if you _have_ to.” 

You were sick of crying and so did not take him up on his offer. Instead, you shuddered against him for another minute or so, then pushed yourself away to wipe your eyes. “What baby talk? You never want to talk about the baby.” 

“You never brought the baby up. I was only following your lead.” 

“But–you never said anything after I told you I was pregnant!” 

“Because you looked scared out of your wits. I didn’t want to make it worse! You already have _Thor_ doing that, and the rest of them, I assume.” 

“But…” 

A single dark eyebrow flicked upward on his brow. “Are you saying that you _weren’t_ scared?” 

“No!” You sat up a little straighter, which didn’t exactly make sense. “I was scared. I still _am_ scared. I don’t know how to be a mother, and I was so sure you were going to leave. When you weren’t there when I got back with Steve, I thought you had finally made your mind up.” 

“If I was going to leave, I would have gone back the first night,” Loki answered. “And I think taking care of a child is a much better choice than going back to Asgard to face imprisonment again. I only wasn’t there because I thought you’d want to tell all of your _friends_ what the baby was first.” 

That last sentence was the only one you needed to understand. You wished you thought of it earlier; it seemed so obvious. Loki somehow thought, since the Avengers talked to you and they were the _good_ guys, they mattered more to you than he did. That thought made you want to tear up all over again, but somehow you resisted. Your palm found your growing stomach. “Why would I tell them first?” you whispered. “It’s _our_ baby. Not theirs.” 

“I–” Probably you imagined it, but you thought you saw Loki turn a bit pink at the edges. Then he coughed the moment and color away. “So you didn’t tell them? What it was, I mean?” 

“No. I wanted to tell you first.” 

“The _Captain_ already knows. I’m sure you told _him_.” 

“He went with me, Loki. I was too scared to go on my own.” 

“ _I_ should have gone with you. Like you said, it’s _my_ child, not his, nor Thor’s, nor any of the rest of them.” 

“Steve promised not to tell.” Since Loki’s countenance was starting to grow bitter, you took one of his hands in yours and rubbed your thumb across his knuckles. “It’s a girl, Loki.” 

A beat nearly as long as the one following your pregnancy announcement followed. Your breath felt like a bird beating its wings against your throat. You knew the culture Loki came from. You’d seen him and Thor go at it often enough. Could this be the end to everything that had built up between you thus far? 

“A girl.” His voice sounded constricted; he tugged his hand from your grip and stood up to take several paces across the room. The bird in your windpipe grew more frantic, though you kept still and silent on the bed. Loki turned back toward you. “A girl. What kind of a girl? Is she–is she human?” 

“She _looks_ human.” 

But Loki moved very quickly toward you again to take you by the shoulders. “So she’s not a skeleton? Or a wolf or a horse or a snake or–” 

“She looks human,” you repeated slowly, and Loki’s face slowly settled. He bowed his head for a brief moment, then looked up again. 

“What are we going to name her?” 

Your relief washed over you so strongly that you could not answer. 

“Surely you have some ideas. What are the names your people give their children? I’d prefer we not name her after Natasha, but surely there are other suitable titles we can use.” 

When finally you came to long enough to hear his blathering, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. “I’d like to give her a name from _your_ people.” 

He paused again, staring at you with wide green eyes; you could still feel his hands on your shoulders. “What?” 

“I’d like to give her an Asgardian name.” 

“[Name],” he said. “You _know_ how I feel about Asgard. I _left_ Asgard. I’d never visit the place if Thor didn’t drag me there once a month.” 

“You’d go to visit your mother.” 

Loki acted as though he had not heard that. “Why would I want my _child_ to constantly remind me of a place I despise?” 

“I know all that,” you said. “I do, really. But it’s still a part of you and I’ve still never got to see or experience it. I’ve never visited or met your parents or seen your other children. You don’t even talk about it, not even to complain. It feels like there’s a part of you I’m missing. I’d really like it if you’d let me have this.” 

His gaze grew very soft. He regarded you quietly as the wall clock ticked off an entire minute. You did not allow your eyes to slip away. If Loki absolutely insisted on giving her an English name, you’d do it, but this was something you had thought long and hard about. It wasn’t something you were going to let him decide against easily. 

Maybe he felt the steel in you, because Loki released a long-held breath and moved to sit down next to you. “I _guess_ since you’re the one _having_ the baby, I’ll also let you have this concession.” 

“Really?” you asked with some of your old sparkle. One corner of his mouth flicked up and down so fast you almost didn’t catch it. 

“Really.” 

“Thank you!” You kissed him on the cheek and rubbed your belly again. “So what are some names girls have there? Anything that sounds really neat?” 

It took Loki a very long time to shrug. In the time before, he laid back on the bed so that you had to adjust your neck to be looking at him. “ÁsælfR,” he said. “Fjǫrleif.” 

“I need to be able to spell it, too, Loki.” 

“This was _your_ idea,” he reminded you, and sighed once more. An even longer silence filled the air after this. You tapped your toes on the floor, but lost count after five minutes. Then: “Svala,” he said quietly. 

“Svala?” 

He nodded. “It means sparrow.” 

“What,” you couldn’t help smiling at that, “so you can keep the animal theme going?” 

“Well, at least then she’ll fit in,” Loki retorted as he sat up again. “I imagine that will mean something to her.” 

“Huh? What do you mean?” 

“I worry,” he flicked his hand lethargically through the air, “about what will happen later. Thor and Jane will have children, no doubt. Tony and his Pepper as well. The Captain is far too charismatic _not_ to have a family. And then what will happen to our daughter? She’ll be the freak, just like I am.” 

“Just like _we_ are.” 

“You–” 

“ _I_ didn’t try to take over the planet and kill thousands of people,” you interrupted. “I know. And I’m human. But those guys treat me like a ticking time bomb, too. I’m the crazy girl that decided to take up with the guy that _did_ do all of those things. They don’t get it.” 

“And yet you’ve gone as far as to have my child,” he said. “Maybe you _are_ crazy.” 

“Probably! But let’s not worry about Svala yet. She’ll have a few years on the rest of them, and you can train her up to be real tough so she can beat the tar out of the rest of them if they give her trouble.” 

He offered you a very tiny smile at that. “So, Svala, then. Shall we go down and make the announcement?” 

“Nah,” you said with a grin of your own. “Let them sweat it out for a few hours thinking it’s going to be a giant wolf. We could teach it to eat them if they made us mad.” 

“I like the way you think. But if we’re not going to dinner and we’re not allowed outside the building, what do you suggest we do instead?” 

“Mm…” There were literally dozens of things that needed done. Birth announcements were one of them, even if only ten people would get them. You should probably pick out a nursery and start figuring out how to decorate it. Would the Avengers allow you a baby shower? Tony could probably just buy your entire list for you, but it was a tossup between that or him being a big enough jerk to refuse you any help at all. On second thought, all this planning for planning was making you tired. “Let’s just watch a movie and hang out. I missed you, you know?” 

Instead of heading to the living room, Loki stretched out again on the mattress. “I missed you, too.”

* * *


	6. Kicks

“Well _that_ went much better than we were expecting,” Pepper announced to the room at large. Hers was the first voice to break the silence, but it did not do much to expel the general stunned feeling that lingered in the air ten minutes after the end of the party. You did not much blame the rest of the group; your parents could have that effect on people. They had long since left to happily follow JARVIS’ voice out the building, but even you couldn’t bring yourself to stir. 

Either Pepper was equally stunned, or she simply couldn’t stand the thought of standing still while there was work to be done. Before you could so much as a voice gratitude for your surprise “baby shower,” she had started to remove the empty plates from their places by everyone’s seats. _That_ more than anything got things started again. 

“Am I the only one that’s slightly disappointed?” Clint asked. He was sitting on a loveseat perpendicular to yours, with one arm around Natasha’s shoulders. When Pepper neared to pick up Natasha’s uneaten slice of cake, he swiftly picked up the dish and crammed a mouthful of food into his mouth. “I mean, if _we_ can’t do anything to this guy, the least [Name]’s parents could have done was ream him out.” 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” said Natasha. 

“This was _your_ slice,” he reminded her. “ _I’m_ just making sure that it doesn’t go to waste.” 

It was odd watching Pepper walk around the circle of chairs and couches cleaning up–even though that was always what you found her doing when she took a weekend off to visit Manhattan. She was, after all, the CEO of Stark Industries. Why she would bother helping you out as often as she did, you had no idea. Apparently Tony thought the same, because he grabbed her as soon as she got close enough and pulled her onto his lap. 

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Tony said, and opened his mouth to continue. Steve, however, interrupted him. 

“You know, I don’t think they recognized Loki at all.” 

This was apparently the part of the day where all the Avengers (and their significant others, but minus Bruce, as he had taken his leave as soon as he’d heard the visitors were arriving) talked about you and Loki and pretended the two of you were not right there. Maybe it was the hormones talking–or the fact that you had invited your parents to visit so you could tell them the news, only to have the team ruin any chance at delaying the announcement with the baby shower–but you couldn’t let that behavior pass that day. 

“My parents don’t watch the news much, and they were out of the country during the invasion,” you said, perhaps more snippily than was necessary. It was Steve that had asked the question, but even he couldn’t avoid your mood swings these days. 

“I’m really glad things went so well,” Jane piped up. She was perched on the arm of Thor’s chair, and remained so determinedly optimistic and bright that you found it at times difficult to look directly at her. At the moment, however, she was the only person in the room you _could_ look directly at. At least she wasn't voicing disappointment that no one had been beaten beaten or disowned. “Are you okay, [Name]?” 

“I’m fine,” you said automatically. You were still having trouble wrapping your head around what had just happened between you, Loki, and your parents. No doubt the rest of the group was not, as they were all lot smarter than you were, so you did not want to admit the extent of your confusion. “Just…surprised.” 

Tony cleared his throat, the better to gain everyone’s attention after Steve had stolen it away. “As are we all. Man, I haven’t seen that wide a range of emotions in such a short period of time since I introduced Pepper to BDSM.” 

“Is that _really_ something you have to share with the group?” Steve asked, looking pained, though not directly at Tony. 

“If that were _true_ ,” Pepper shot Tony an annoyed look as she leaned just far enough away to pick her cup of tea up from the coffee table, “Tony would be the one with the gag in his mouth.” 

Clint’s bark of laughter quickly changed into a cough. You vaguely wondered if Natasha had crammed the rest of her cake down his throat. Silence fell again in the room. Why, you couldn’t really say. The rest of them shouldn’t have been so tired; _they_ weren’t carrying a baby well into its second trimester. After two straight hours of shouting, lecturing, squealing, and joyous tears, all you wanted to do was ride the elevator back up to your floor and sleep, especially considering your parents would be back that evening and expect more time with you. 

In your admittedly selfish inner-complaining, you entirely forgot to worry about Loki. He had had to bear the brunt of your parents’ frustrations, even if they hadn’t known that he was an intergalactically wanted criminal. Being yelled at in such a fashion had obviously startled him. Whatever Loki claimed about his adopted father, it was quite clear that no one having parental status had ever treated him like that before. 

Thor, ever the attentive brother, _did_ remember. He reached out one massive hand and placed it on Loki’s shoulder. Normally, such an action would have elicited a sharp rebuke. This time, Loki did not react at all. “How about you, brother? Are you alright? That must have been quite the harrowing experience.” 

Slowly, Loki blinked. He shook his head like a dog exiting the water, then asked of no one in particular, “Did they just tell us we have to get _married_?” 

You felt the eyes of everyone in the room turn to you. Pressing your lips together did nothing to dissuade anyone from waiting for your answer. At last, you took a deep breath and said, “Um. Well. Yes. That’s usually how it works.” 

That only appeared to puzzle Loki further, judging by his facial expression. You could feel blush climbing up your neck. Your father had made that particular demand, and though you were not necessarily averse to the idea of marrying Loki, you still wished your father hadn’t brought it up. Then Steve stepped in, either because he noticed your discomfort or didn’t want another incident: 

“Or you get married _then_ have sex, _then_ have children.” 

Loki turned to him. “ _Why_?” 

“I…”Steve looked around the room. Everyone stared blankly back at him. “I don’t understand the question.” 

“Why would you do things in that order? What if you don’t even _like_ each other? What if your sex lives are incompatible? What if, I don’t know, your significant other turns out to be someone else entirely?” 

“That is just how they do things here, Loki,” said Thor. “Marriage and children are interlinked. Also, I must warn you that bestiality is illegal in almost every state, so you should avoid–” 

“Would you,” Loki’s voice rose for the first time that day, “shut up about Svaðilfari? That was _one_ time, and I was a horse, too! And it is not as though you and Odin have not got use out of my _son_.” 

“Okay,” said Clint. “This is getting a little weird for me.” 

Thor sat up a little in his chair. Jane bit her lip; her eyes darted between Loki and Thor. “There is no need to become upset,” Thor said. His voice remained calm, but his expression was quite stony. In the brief time before Thor finished his explanation, you felt a strange sensation in your stomach. The conversation continued before you could give the feeling much thought. “I am only trying to look out for you. If you were to be imprisoned here on Earth, getting you free would be much more difficult, perhaps impossible.” 

“I do not need you look after me, Thor!” 

You felt the movement again. “Um, guys?” 

“What of [Name], then? What would she and Svala do if the Midgardian authorities found you in bed with a deer?” 

“I am not going to bed a deer!” Loki shouted, leaping to his feet. In a matter of seconds, Thor was on his feet, too. The rest of the Avengers simply watched, more likely because they weren’t concerned with the escalation of the fight than that they were too tired to stop it. Again, you felt something inside you move. “In case you have not noticed, I have stayed with [Name] this long, and I do not plan–” 

“Hey–” 

“–to abandon her _or_ my child. I am sick and tired of you treating me like an irresponsible brat.” 

“I do believe you have amply proven that you are irresponsible in the past few years.” 

“Um–” 

“Oh, and isn’t _that_ the pot calling the kettle black. I’ll have you know–” 

“You two need to shut up,” Natasha broke in. Her voice remained quiet, but a demand coming from her was enough to immediately silence both men. Once she was certain that the argument would go no further for the time being, she looked you in the eye. “[Name] has something to say.” 

You found yourself once more in the center of attention, and gulped. Now you were sure that you had somehow imagined the movement earlier. Just as you were about to request that you be able to gather up your presents, help clean, and leave, it happened again. Amazed, you pressed both hands into your stomach. 

“I think–I think she’s kicking.” 

Someone squealed; this was quickly revealed to be Jane. In a flash, she was at your side, but she froze immediately upon catching your eye. “Can I–” She lifted one hand. “Can I feel?” she asked uncertainly. 

With Loki standing next to you stunned again, there was no reason for you to say no. You hesitated, and then nodded, causing Jane to break out into a wide, dazzling grin, and gently press her own hand to the sweater settled on your stomach. For a moment, you were afraid that Svala wouldn’t kick again, and Jane would tell the rest of the group that you were lying. Your fear was for nothing. The baby kicked and Jane sucked in a great breath. 

“She _is_ kicking!” 

Within a matter of seconds, you were surrounded by the rest of the crowd. There were enough “oh”s and “let me feel”s that you could not even begin to tell where they came from. Even Tony was there, watching fondly as Pepper took her turn. 

“Excuse me,” Loki’s peevish voice rose about the rest of clamor; again everyone fell quiet and still, “but I believe that is _my_ child, and thus _I_ should get the privilege of feeling her kick before the rest of you do.” 

To your great surprise, everyone parted. Shooting glares at everyone as he passed, Loki walked sedately down the recently-made aisle. It would not have surprised you to find that he was taking as much time as possible in the hopes that Svala would be done with her little dance by the time he got there. She’d been going at it for several minutes as it was. When Loki _did_ arrive, he peeled your sweater up and placed his hand directly on your skin. Nothing happened. Your eyes locked. Several minutes passed and then– _pop_. 

He blinked again, then retracted his hand at odd intervals. You could feel yourself tearing up, which half-annoyed you, seeing as you’d never been terribly emotional prior to Svala deciding to exist. Loki, however, looked a little teary as well when his eyes met your again–just a _little_ , mind you, and you would never admit it to Thor, or Tony, or any of the rest. Seeing that you were having a moment, the rest of the party dispersed and began to take down the decorations, put up the food, and jam the scattered wrapping paper into the trashcan. 

You should have helped, but to be honest, you barely noticed. Loki must not have either. His hand gently curled around yours as he sat back down beside you. As your eyes slid shut, you allowed your head to fall on his shoulder. No, you weren’t married, and you couldn’t even say for sure that you and Loki ever would be. But for now? This was more than enough. 

* * *


	7. Making Plans

One of the memories that returned to you again and again during your pregnancy was the day–years and years before–when your mother returned from the library and gifted you with a large stack of books on womanhood. She’d waited until the very _hour_ you’d started your first period, and that was the most you ever got from her on the subject. _Discussing_ your ascent into womanhood would have required she sit down for a few minutes. You read the books alone, and one thing stuck even better than the rest: “Pregnancy is magical.” 

Now that you were experiencing pregnancy first hand, you had to call bullshit. If “magic” was several orifices on your body discharging, almost every bit of you being swollen, and being bombarded by constant back pain, then you were going to have to start pitying the Dursleys. To make matters worse, your stomach was so huge that you couldn’t even get comfortable enough to sleep. Six weeks out from your due date and you were so exhausted that your mood swings hurt _you_. 

The clock on the bedside table hit 2:45. You groaned, but had no other outlet for your frustration. Svala’s bump loomed in front of you, a dark shadow against the already dark wall. Aches throbbed across your body; the surface of your skin felt moist all over. Hours had passed since first you laid down, and yet you had not managed to so much as doze off. It was starting to become more than a little maddening. 

“Loki,” you said to the window facing you. “Hey. Loki. Are you awake?” 

The room remained entirely black and still. Not even JARVIS deigned to interrupt your oppressive solitude…but that was probably because Tony had taken away your butler privileges a month or so ago. Clint thought this was Tony’s way of subtly giving you and Loki some privacy, but you weren’t so sure. Tony had come to talk to you directly after locking JARVIS off your floor–and he hadn’t said anything about privacy. 

“I don’t need you running my butler ragged with all of _your_ demands for pickles and ice cream or whatever that _your_ beau will be too lazy to get.” 

Unluckily for Tony (unless Clint was right, of course), you and Loki had barely used JARVIS’ services to begin with. How was an incorporeal voice supposed to get you pickles and ice cream anyway? Your floor came stocked with a kitchen and kitchen utensils, but even that wasn’t much motivation. You and Loki both were normally too lazy to bother with cooking or thawing, and were quite used to going without food just to avoid the effort it involved _long_ before Svala arrived in your lives. Sure, you were hungrier than usual with the baby, but that only managed to get you off your butt long enough to scrounge food from downstairs. Tony’s butler could hardly help with _that_. 

Come to think of it, this sort of behavior probably wasn’t going to cut it once the baby was born. You didn’t want to be a neglectful mother. You’d probably have to learn how to cook proper meals and eat balanced diets and exercise on a daily basis. The sheer amount of work this would take made your head spin even while lying stationary on a bed. This was the last straw of many. 

“Loki. Are you awake?” 

“I _was_ , until you started _talking_.” The lack of thickness in Loki’s words proved that he had indeed woke up when first asked. He was the lightest sleeper of the two of you; likely he had hoped you’d get bored of staying awake and peter out on your own. “What do you want?” 

“I can’t sleep.” 

“What a coincidence,” Loki remarked dryly. “Neither can I.” 

“It’s the baby,” you explained. This was unnecessary, since Svala impeded any attempt at movement so much that you couldn’t even turn toward Loki to talk to him in bed. “I want her out.” 

Loki sighed. You felt the bed shift as he twisted toward you. “[Name], I have many powers, but none of them apply to removing a baby from a woman’s womb.” 

“Well, that’s entirely useless. Thank you for your contribution.” Suddenly, you wanted to cry, which made you want to scream. More than anything, you wanted the baby born already and your normal hormonal balance back. This changing of emotions every two seconds was exhausting. “I can even remember the last time I slept through the night.” 

You heard him sigh a second time. Part of you sympathized with him: It must not have been easy dealing with you like this. The other part of you blamed him quite a bit for your current predicament. It took two to tango, after all. 

“You realize,” he said after another short pause, “that you’ll be getting _less_ sleep once she's outside where we can hear her scream?” 

“No.” 

He tried again: “You realize babies cry a lot?” 

“Yes.” Did Loki want you to try to hit him? Because the unadulterated anger flowing through your veins was making you want to, and his implying you were an idiot wouldn’t help. “But _I’m_ the one carrying her around in my stomach and shoving her out of a tiny hole in my body. I figure _you_ can be on night watch in exchange.” 

“I’m starting to think you don’t understand how parenthood works.” 

“Speak for yourself, Mr. Seahorse.” 

“I’ll have you know that Svaðilfari has visitation rights _and_ gets to keep Sleipnir half the year and most holidays. Just because we decided we didn’t want to parent _together_ doesn’t mean we don’t parent as a _team_.” 

Damn. It was saying something when Loki’s horse-baby-daddy had a healthier desire to raise a child than you did. But admitting so wouldn’t do much to alleviate your irritation and boredom. “Then why don’t you go back to him, if he was such a good mate?” 

“ _Because_ I am no longer in that stage of my life. Right now, I am with you, and I plan to stay here for a while–if you don’t manage to drive me away with your constant whining.” 

“ _You_ try carrying a baby around in _your_ womb for eight months, and then we can talk about how much whining I’m doing.” 

“I already did that," he reminded you, "and I did it for longer. Did you wake me up just annoy me?” 

“No,” you said, a defensive note in your voice. “I woke you up because I’m bored out of my mind, and I don’t think it’s exactly fair that you get to sleep soundly all night long when Svala is at least half your responsibility.” 

“Exactly half,” said Loki. For whatever reason, he chose not to argue the irrationality of that statement any further. “What do you suggest we do to help that, outside of a Caesarean section that would likely get the both of us arrested?” 

“Let’s paint the nursery!” 

Without being able to see Loki at all with your back toward him, you could still imagine his expression. First, his eyebrows would furrow and his forehead crinkle. Then, every muscle would relax and lay smooth. Finally, he would open his mouth, close it a few times, and then: 

“What? _Why_?” 

“It needs done. You know Pepper’s been talking about her and Tony doing it on her next day off. Do you want those two here for as long as that’s going to take?” 

“Wait. Why isn’t _Thor_ doing it?” 

“Either because everyone already knows you’ll kick up a fit about that _or_ no one trusts him with a paintbrush.” 

He chuckled. “The last bit probably. Thor couldn’t manage to paint the side of a barn.” 

“So you’ll help me, then?” 

Loki let out a long groan. You counted off the seconds it would last: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. “Why don’t you run along and ask the good doctor to help you? He’s probably up at this hour anyway, and I seem to recall he likes to paint as way to…express his emotions.” 

A smirk colored the last two words of Loki’s sentence. You scowled. “Don’t be mean about Bruce. He’s been a lot nicer to me than you have lately.” 

His response to this was a grumble even lengthier than his groan. The the bed shifted several times underneath his weight before he spoke loudly enough for you hear again: “You are being ridiculous. I’m going back to sleep. See you in the morning.” 

“ _Loki_.” 

More muttering. “ _Fine_. But only if you promise me that you’ll let me take a nap tomorrow, and you’ll find someone else to bother while I’m doing so.” 

It took you a minute or so of chewing on the inside of your cheek to decide whether or not this deal was worth it. Sometimes you managed naps in the afternoon, but not often. Did you really want to go downstairs and risk having to talk to Tony or Clint or Natasha the entire time Loki was sleeping? 

In the end, you decided that you might as well do it. It beat sitting awake until the blinds on the window pulled up of their own volition. Besides, you hadn’t got to see Steve in a few days, and last you heard he was working on his motorcycle. Watching him tinker might be fun. 

“Deal,” you said, and hopped up to your feet with more energy and grace than you really felt you had. You had trundled all the way over to the door before you realized that your boyfriend was not following. Turning on the spot, you saw him still in bed, his eyes shining in the dim light coming from the crack underneath the door. “Well?” 

He let out his most waspish sigh of the evening, but sat up and untangled the sheets from around his waist. Once Loki was standing, you walked heavily out the door and toward the room filled with the baby supplies you had accumulated. There as well sat several gallons of light purple paint, trays, and a handful of wide brushes. Loki took the one you offered wordlessly and set to work. After a moment playing with the control panel on the wall, you got some music going and began painting yourself. 

It was a long night and not much was said. Still–a few times–Loki came up behind you to touch your neck, your face, your stomach. Even if you were loathed to admit it, you knew that Svala was keeping her father from doing things he wanted to as well. Not that _you_ couldn’t go for some sex yourself, but just moving around normally was too much of an issue. You offered him a smile to show you understood; Loki just rolled his eyes. When she decided to start kicking again, you pursed your lips as you rubbed your belly. You’d said it before, but you’d say it again: You couldn’t _wait_ to get this kid out of you.

* * *


	8. Surprise!

In the end, you were right. You were always right. From the very beginning, you had known that you did _not_ want to be pregnant, and here you were three days overdue and fit to burst, and you would do _anything_ to not be pregnant anymore. Swollen, sore, and cranky, you could barely stand your _own_ company. Blaming Loki for leaving as soon as breakfast was over wasn’t even possible anymore. All you could do was kiss his cheek goodbye and then waddle into the unused nursery. There was a rocking chair in there–a gift from your parents–into which you gratefully collapsed. At least you could spend a few quiet minutes in here, before your bladder decided to make itself known. 

“Ugh,” you groaned, ankles popping as you stuck your legs out in front of you. Not even a kick this time around. You placed a hand on your swollen stomach. “Come on, kid. You’re killing me here.” 

Nothing, though why you had thought at this point that Svala would have any reaction at all was beyond you. Clearly her dearest desire in life was to make you miserable. This likely did not bode well for the relationship you would have when she was all grown up. You fell silent for a few minutes and went back and forth in your chair. No one to talk to for so long meant that you’d talk to anyone given the chance, even the demon spawn presently occupying your womb. 

“Look how nice it is in your bedroom,” you crooned. “Don’t you want to come out and see it? See Mommy and Daddy’s faces? Eat some _real_ food?” 

“You know, I really don’t think unborn children understand the concept of real food,” came a voice from the nursery doorway. “Or nice bedrooms. Or much of anything. And then they’re born and they don’t have any teeth to eat real food with.” 

Turning around with a gasp–you weren’t often afforded company these days–, you found Natasha standing there. Her arms were crossed; her eyes roved around the lavender walls. When she saw you looking, Natasha cracked a smile and walked properly inside. 

“Of course, that’s human babies," she added. "For all we know, Frost Giants are born with a full set of teeth.” 

“They aren’t. Loki said–” 

“It looks really nice in here. You two did a good job,” Natasha cut smoothly across your attempt to start a fight with her. This was actually somewhat nice of her, since you wouldn’t have been able to win a fight even without half your mind on the excruciating pressure on your bladder. Would it be rude to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom? With any luck, Natasha would be gone by the time you got back. Even trying to rise from your seat, however, made your ankles throb in protest. You plopped back down with a defeated sigh. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Guess it’s pretty obvious I wouldn’t just drop in for a friendly chat, huh?” Natasha shook her head; her long sheet of red hair shifted back and forth across her shoulders. There was something sad in her smile that caused you to frown, but then it was gone and you could only assume that you had imagined it. “You’re right,” she continued with a firmer expression. “You’ve got a visitor waiting downstairs.” 

“A visitor?” _That_ got you out of your seat, and the blood draining from your face besides. “I told Mom not to come until I went into labor. I don’t want to entertain her for the next eight days or years! It’s hard enough entertaining myself!” 

As your voice reached higher and higher pitches, you shambled at your top speed toward the door. God knew this was the last thing you needed: movement and babbling and questions thrown every which way. Your sweaty hand had only just found the knob on the door that led to floor lobby when Natasha’s hand covered your own, forcing you to pause in your hysteria. 

“It’s not your parents,” she assured you as she opened the door and gently guided you toward the elevator. 

“It’s not?” you asked, feeling some relief. Though who else would visit you that didn’t live in the building was beyond you. 

“No. It’s Director Fury.” 

The elevator doors closed before you had any chance to make a break for it. Even if you’d had a chance, what hope did you have outrunning Natasha–not to mention Clint and Steve and Thor and whoever else the Avengers’ mysterious boss could wrangle for help? With your sort of luck, the only escape _you’d_ manage to make would be by tripping down a flight of stairs and breaking your neck at the bottom. Still _that_ was probably preferable to whatever Director Fury wanted to do with you. 

“Nat–” her name came out as a squeak through your suddenly constricted airways. “Nat, I thought you said he wouldn’t make me do anything. I thought you said so long as everything was fine we could keep her. It’s not Svala’s fault she didn’t come on time. I’m sure any day now, she’ll pop out. You can’t–it’s so soon– _please_ , Natasha, you can’t let him!” 

Natasha stayed quiet through your entire tirade. The entire situation gave you an eerie feeling to déjà vu, like you were starting over from the beginning and being forced to confess to Loki you were pregnant all over again. Only this was worse, a million times worse, because Director Fury didn’t have any personal connection to you. He didn’t understand Bruce, he didn’t understand Loki, and there was no _way_ that he was going to understand your unborn daughter. 

“[Name], relax,” Natasha said as the elevator doors slid open. She looked a little alarmed. Well, why wouldn’t she? Who cared about when you’d been mortified just to tear up in front of her? Now you were full on crying, with tears and snot running down your face. After a moment of waiting that produced no end to your surge in emotion, she peered out the elevator, then came back inside to press a Kleenex to your hand. While you attempted to stem the flow of whatever you could, Natasha did her best to soothe you. “Director Fury just wants to talk, alright? No one is going to hurt you. He doesn’t want to do anything to Svala. There are just a few things he wants to iron out with you and Loki before she’s born.” 

“Me a-and–” You hiccupped, sniffed, and tried again: “Me _and_ Loki?” 

“That’s right. They’re already both in the room down the hall. You just go in there and listen to what he has to say, and then you can go back upstairs and try to convince her to get a move on some more.” 

You gave her a shaky nod and took an even shakier breath. What Natasha was saying made sense. If Director Fury had wanted Svala gone, he wouldn’t have demanded that you and Loki live here at the tower. Besides, when had listening to Tony’s stories _ever_ done you a lick of good? Even Bruce claimed Tony exaggerated sometimes, and those two were supposed to be _friends_. 

“Good,” Natasha said, handing you yet another Kleenex. “Just don’t let them know you were crying. That boyfriend of yours might not take too kindly to that.” 

“He’s not supposed to,” you mumbled into your scrap of paper. “He’s supposed to keep from getting hurt.” 

She snorted and patted you once on the shoulder. “You know, I think I’m looking forward to you going back to normal, too.” 

Normal? You blinked. Did that mean that Natasha _liked_ you? When you weren’t a quivering mess of hormones and bladder problems, were the two of you actually _friends_? You had no time to ask; she was already moving along toward a door toward the end of the hallway. You followed at your usual crawl. Once you made it and she could ascertain that most signs of your crying had disappeared, she rapped on the door and pushed it open. 

“[Name]’s here to see you,” she said. 

“Bring her in,” said a deep voice from within. Natasha stepped away from the entrance and gestured for you to go inside. You hesitated for only a second, then shuffled in without need for further prompting or coercion. She snapped the door shut behind you at the soonest possible opportunity. You didn’t bother trying the handle; there was no way that she would be sloppy enough to leave you an out, friend or no. 

The room inside was entirely nondescript. There was a row of windows overlooking the city to your right. Everything else was a uniform shade of white, including the table and three chairs in the center. At the side opposite you stood a tall, intimidating man, dressed in all black and wearing an eyepatch lashed tightly over his bald head. The other figure you knew well enough even with his ramrod-straight back facing you. Director Fury (because who else could the unknown guy be?) waited for you to take several steps into the room before he stood and held a hand out toward the empty chair next to your boyfriend. 

“Miss [L Name],” he said. “Good of you to join us.” 

“Er…yeah. Thanks.” 

You sat down without looking at Directory Fury. Your gaze was set on Loki, though he wasn’t looking at you. His pale hands were clenched in his lap; his green eyes narrowed in dislike on the man in front of him. Director Fury noticed this, too, and smirked before he sat down again. 

“Are you feeling alright, Miss [L Name]?” 

Loki made no attempt to answer for you. You looked away, licked your lips, and swallowed before you made any attempt yourself. 

“Fine,” you said in a voice much steadier than you felt. “Ready for the baby to come.” 

“I don’t doubt it. There are just a few items of business to go over before she does. I’ll try not to keep you long.” 

You opened your mouth, but were unable to say anything before Loki interrupted with an entirely humorless laugh. 

“Something amuse you, Mr. Laufeyson?” Director Fury asked. 

“Oh, no,” said Loki. “Just the idea that you think of my daughter as anything _human_. Why not dispense with the act? We both know you’re here because you think of her as a monster.” 

Director Fury appeared very much as though he were resisting the urge to roll his eyes. What he did instead was lock his fingers together on top of the table. “If I did not have every intention of treating Svala like any other child, I think I would have taken steps much sooner than this to prevent her development.” 

“Oh, yes, because the almighty leader of SHIELD would _obviously_ have the power to overturn this country’s archaic views on life in the womb immediately.” 

“You would be surprised what I have the power to do. Fortunately for all parties involved, I have no desire to force anything on you or Miss [L Name]. You both wanted this child, and you’re going to get to have her.” 

“Only for your organization to take her away from us then, I presume? I see it all now quite clearly. You would hate to let her grow up with her family, of course. Perhaps [Name] and I would press the idea of taking over Earth on her, hm?” 

Director Fury watched Loki quietly, then exhaled as he turned back to you. “Is he always this ridiculous?” he asked you conversationally. That you could not answer. Not when you were being much more ridiculous lately, and especially not when Loki was voicing most of your fears as well. 

“If you are planning to let us have and keep Svala,” you said, “what is there that you need to discuss with us?” 

He nodded and leaned back in his chair, then rubbed at his chin for a moment. “I’m here to talk to you about the Avengers’ Initiative.” 

Silence rang in the tiny room for several seconds. Maybe it was just the tension inside, but during that silence you began to feel very odd. Your chest had started to burn and the weight in your inner crotch felt suddenly moist. “Very funny,” Loki sneered. Director Fury eyed him again for a long moment, then turned that single, focused eyeball on you. 

“Tell me, Miss [L Name], do I _look_ like a very jokey man to you?” 

“No,” you began, “but–” 

“But what’s the catch?” Loki demanded. 

“The catch, Mr. Laufeyson, is that you are living here under _my_ roof–” 

“Because you insisted on it! Don’t think for minute that I would willingly live in the same building as my brother. If I had my way–” 

“There are certain precautions that need to be taken. Need I remind you that you killed not just my best man, but multiple agents and several dozen citizens in that stunt you pulled last year?” 

“Oh, and those sins are to be visited on my daughter, are they? What lovely people you all turned out to be. I–” 

Now that you thought about it, that moistness was starting to get a lot more prominent. And hadn’t you read somewhere once that labor sometimes felt like heartburn? You’d never had heartburn either, but there was a distinctly smoldering feeling in your chest, and it was only getting worse each time the burning surged upward. 

“What I am suggesting is that you make up for it. Your daughter and Miss [L Name] and yourself have free room and board here in exchange for you working for me with the team here.” 

“Work with _Thor_? For a _living_? Are you _mad_?” 

Okay, clearly these two were not going to stop any time soon. If you waited for this argument to reach a conclusion, Svala would probably already be born. But Director Fury was still an unknown. There was no telling what he’d do if you just got up and left in the middle of your meeting with him. You had no other option: you would have to beg Natasha for help. 

_‘Nat,’_ you typed out, all the while pretending to pay attention to the bickering around you. Thankfully, both men appeared too involved with each other to notice you messing with your cellphone at all. _‘I think I’m going into labor. I think. I swear I’m not trying to get out of this. My water broke and my chest hurts and I can't get a word in edgewise. I’m sorry I ever doubted you. Please, please help._

This was rattled off as quickly as your fingers could manage. Still Loki and Director Fury continued what they were doing. You held your breath, but the door didn’t open. Oh, God. What were you going to do? 

“I’m sorry,” Director Fury said in a tone of forced politeness. “I was not aware you had so many employment opportunities after blowing the city apart.” 

“You don’t know what opportunities I have,” Loki shot back. “I am a _prince_. Should I choose to, I could go home rather than stay here and continue to play second fiddle to _Thor_.” 

“Could we push the family issues to side for a few minutes? They really aren’t what I came here to discuss.” 

Loki was half out of his seat with wild laughter. Had you not been so panicked, you might have pulled him back down. He _was_ being ridiculous. Director Fury was right about that at least. Just when you thought you would absolutely _have_ to interrupt for the sake of everyone there, the door behind you opened. There was Natasha. Every eye in the room fixed on her. She looked a little breathless, but she didn’t let that stop her. 

“Someone in here about to have a baby?” she asked. Loki’s mouth fell open. You didn’t bother to wait for him; you were already on your feet. For all you cared right then, Director Fury and Loki could go back and forth until the cows came home, so long as you got this tiny person out of your uterus. In fact, you _expected_ them to continue their fight. The shuffling behind you soon put a stop to that plan. 

“I’ll call a cab,” Director Fury said as he helped you out of the room and after Natasha into the elevator once more. 

“I’ll call your parents,” said Loki. 

“And I’ll call everyone else,” Natasha said. But she winked as she said it. You shot her a very quivery smile of gratitude as she squeezed your shoulder. So you had friends–maybe too many right just then. Maybe you’d actually get to enjoy having them for real once this nine month-long nightmare was finally over.

* * *


	9. Welcome to the World

Was being rushed to hospital in an over-packed taxi with your boyfriend, friend, and her boss fun? No. Was being embarrassingly rushed to some secret back room in case your daughter really _did_ turn out to be some sort demonic being fun? No. Was normal, mundane labor fun? No. But since all three things meant that you were finally, _finally_ rid of that which had been torturing you for nine long months? You hardly cared about _fun_. 

Well, technically you weren't rid of Svala. She wasn't _inside_ you anymore. For the time being, she was simply out of the room, which allowed you a much needed rest. Those labor pains hadn’t stayed at heartburn levels for long. 

Actually, you barely remembered _finishing_ the labor when you came back to yourself a few hours later. The room sounded empty, which you found immediately strange. After so long having a near-constant hustle and bustle around you despite your best efforts to run everyone off, any amount of alone time was simply mind-boggling. Mind-boggling, you thought, but not entirely unwelcome. You let out a little groan, squeezed your eyes shut tighter, and prepared for the shock of a crowd awaiting you. Then you opened your eyes. 

“Finally woke up, have you?” came a quiet voice from nearby. Everything was fuzzy for some reason; you blinked a few times to clear your vision. There he was: your dark-haired boyfriend perched on some uncomfortable chair in the middle of a mundane, Midgardian hospital room. The image was so funny that you started to laugh. Loki glowered, but even that pretense didn’t last long. Soon he was smiling faintly himself. 

“How long was I out?” you asked as Loki came over to take your hand. He shrugged, the picture of carelessness. 

“A couple of hours. A relief, really. If you’d remained awake, the rest of those buffoons would still be chattering away in here.” 

_That_ you could remember. Maybe every single one of your neighbors and friends couldn’t be in the room together at once, but they’d all been there themselves a couple times to check in. Thor, in fact, had tried to stay in case his strength was needed; you made a mental note to thank Jane for forcing him out as soon as you had the energy and wits about you to hold a pen. That might not be for quite some time, though. You had a baby now. An honest to God, real, tangible baby. 

“How is she?” you murmured, squeezing Loki’s fingers. “Did she come out alright?” There had been some suggestion of you holding Svala before she’d been whisked off to wherever the hospital kept newborn half-alien babies, but you had been too exhausted to try. Loki had had to do the holding for you. 

“She was blue,” he answered, and not with near enough panic in your opinion. You squirmed upright, feeling the color rush from your cheeks. 

“Blue?” 

“Just a little. She is _my_ daughter, after all. But she pinked up quickly. I suppose she’s like me in that regard as well.” 

Apparently a few of those drugs you’d been given were still doing their jobs, because you couldn’t tell for the life of you what Loki was on about. He looked so _pleased_ , with almost but not quite the same expression he used when pleased with himself. Your daughter not getting oxygen was nothing to be pleased about it. Was it? The cold panic that started in your chest was not allowed to grow. Loki reached out to push a lock of hair from your face, and explained: “She has some magic, [Name].” 

“She–she’s not human?” 

“No. Well,” he corrected himself, “human enough. But ours. Definitely, obviously _ours_.” 

“Ours,” you repeated, smiling. That was a nice word. No, not just a nice word, a nice _thing_. Now no one could question whether or not Loki was Svala’s father, and certainly no one was about to question whether or not she was _your_ daughter after the way you had been acting for the past few months. Svala was not yours, not Loki’s, and not some horse’s. She was yours and Loki’s both. 

“Oh, Allfather,” Loki said. “You’re starting to tear up again.” 

You squeezed his fingers harder than necessary, and he was nice enough to pretend that it hurt. You gave him another smile to show that you had no real hard feelings this time around. “Give me a few weeks. I just squashed a tiny Frost Giantess through a tiny hole in my nethers. Once my hormones calm down, I should be back to normal.” 

“ _That_ is certainly something to be thankful for,” Loki agreed. “I missed you, you know.” 

“I missed you, too. I–” 

This otherwise picture perfect moment was rudely interrupted by a knock at the door. Loki’s hand tightened around yours; you could tell a scolding for Thor was right on the tip of his tongue. The head that poked in, however, was unfamiliar: a smiling, dark-haired woman in scrubs that were unremarkable save for the obvious SHIELD emblem emblazoned on the name tag pinned to her pocket. 

“Did I hear that Miss [L Name] is up?” she asked. Loki’s eyes narrowed, so you interrupted before he could say anything rude: 

“Yes, I am definitely up.” 

“I have your daughter,” said the nurse as she stepped into the room, cradling a lump wrapped in a pale pink blanket. “Would you like to see her now?” 

“Ooh. Please!” 

She dimpled at your outstretched arms, then approached to carefully hand off the pink bundle. Loki came closer as you pushed back the soft blanket to reveal the face of a sleeping baby. Svala’s cheeks were the same shade as Loki’s, and the scant amount of fuzz on her scalp was black as well. True to Loki’s word, not an inch of her was blue now, if it had been at her birth. 

“What color are her eyes?” you asked as you found her tiny clenched fist and held it between your fingers. 

“The same color as yours. They’re your eyes,” he said softly, “when they’re open.” 

The nurse cleared her throat, causing you and Loki to both look up. In all honesty, you had forgotten she was there. Her stance had changed now to something more like a soldier at attention than a children's healthcare specialist. “She might want to nurse when she wakes up,” the nurse said. “Of course, we’re not sure if Frost Giant-human hybrids drink breast milk–” you could feel Loki beside you bristling over his daughter being called a hybrid, and so laid your free hand on his resting atop your sheets ,“–if not, we do have several other things available to see if she will eat those instead. Her uncle has of course agreed to help in any way he can as well.” 

“Of course he has,” Loki sighed. You caught him rolling his eyes, but his attention was already back on Svala, his hands stroking the delicate top of her head. 

“Do you need anything else?” asked the nurse. 

You shook your head. “I think we’re good.” 

After inclining her head and pointing to the call button by your bed, she left. Finally, for what really felt like the first time in ages, your little family was alone. Loki looked up and caught your eye. 

“May I hold her?” 

Part of you wanted to tell him no, he’d had his chance while you were sleeping off giving birth to her. Loki _wanting_ to hold her was so sweet that you couldn’t resist. You nodded and helped him get her into his arms. Svala’s face crumpled as she moved; a noise of displeasure burst from her thin lips. Loki, with no prompting from you at all, made a soft shushing noise and began to pace with her in his arms, bouncing her gently all the while. You smiled as you lowered yourself back onto your pillows. 

This might actually work, you realized as you watched your daughter and her father move around the little hospital room. Sure, you weren’t actually married to your child’s dad, and you were out of work, and miles away from _both_ pairs of Svala’s grandparents–but that might actually be for the best. Besides, things seemed to be working out pretty okay so far. “Have you thought about what Director Fury said?” you asked after Svala had quieted down a few minutes later. 

Loki threw you a look, but said nothing more than, “hm.” 

“I don’t know what that means, Loki.” 

“Hm means hm,” he answered as he made his slow way back to the bed to settle Svala back against your chest. 

“Maybe that’s an answer in one of your other eight Realms, but here…” 

Loki rolled his eyes a second time before he settled down on your bed at your feet. His fingers pulled through his hair. “It means that I do not _know_.” 

There was a peevish note to his voice, but you decided to forgive him. Heaven knew you’d been peevish enough while pregnant, and Svala wouldn’t sleep like this forever. “I think he sort of wanted a yes or no quick,” you pointed out. Loki snorted, then sighed as his shoulders fell. 

“It is not…a bad idea,” he said stiffly, without looking at you. “We’d have a home, at least. But I do not much relish the idea of becoming an ‘Avenger.’” 

“Then don’t,” you said. “We’ll figure something out. Move in with our parents. Something.” 

He threw his head back with a short laugh. “I am _not_ crawling home to my parents, [Name], and I know that you wouldn’t either. No, staying with these sorts of people might not be _too_ awful. Svala would not have to hide who she is. You’ll have friends to help with the baby. I’ll have…family,” he finished with some distaste. 

“Hey.” Loki still refused to look over at you. “Hey,” you said, this time waggling your feet against his side. It was obvious that he would prefer to look at his fingernails, but he tore his gaze away to glare at you. “Come on, sourpuss. He’ll give us a couple of days before he wants an answer for sure. Let’s just–look, she’ll want feeding soon enough, or everybody will want to see her. Let’s just enjoy the quiet, all right?” 

His expression softened somewhat. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll think about it. No reason to rush into this ‘hero’ business. Why, I’m sure I could do anything I wanted to if I decide _not_ to join Thor’s team of super friends.” 

The prideful note in his voice was back, but you didn’t care. You had set out to cheer Loki up, and had clearly succeeded. Unfortunately, this had to be done simply because you were about to dash that cheer to pieces. “You know, we probably have to let him in to see her.” 

_That_ smacked the smirk right of Loki’s face. He even stiffened, as though what you had suggested instead was that you throw your not even day-old daughter out the hospital window. Loki sat like this for quite some time, until you considered shoving him with your feet just to see if he’d fall over in the same position. Before you could do so, he hunched over. 

“Yes, and Jane. That would be only _fair_.” Let it never be said that Loki always appreciated the word "fair." You had a feeling Svala was going to be _far_ from the least spoiled exiled princess of a Realm in existence. “Perhaps your Captain as well.” 

“That _would_ be fair,” you agreed, thinking of all the times you had snapped at Steve in recent weeks. “Natasha, too?” you tacked on hopefully. 

“Oh, of course. Just let the whole lot in, why don’t we?” 

You laughed, and Loki relaxed a little. He cracked a sliver a smile–but _just_ the sliver. You figured you could give him a few minutes to get used to the idea of a whole troop slowly marching through to fondle his baby. You couldn’t resist just one last jab, however: “Just think: If Thor had held her first, she might have been a blonde.” 

The next look he shot you was another glare. You smiled anyway. Yes, you thought, maybe things would turn out just fine in the end. You had your prince, you had your daughter, you had (at least for the time being) an entire floor to live on without paying rent. It might not last forever, but for the time being you were living happily ever after.

****

**The End**


End file.
